Light for Darkness: A christmas story
by Esthern' EraguardiansofChaos
Summary: Lack for a better title. Ryou left it all behind. Now he's back to cut the ties to his past. But will a present change his mind? You might see some shounenai if you squint.


Disclaimer: Don't own YGO

Warning: My style of writing changes halfway through. And if you squint a lot, you'll see shounen-ai. If you blink, you'll miss it.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And yes, I know I need to work on my other stories. I'm revising them now.

Come with us. They had said. We can deliver you from him. We can take you away from the one that makes sure of your misery.

But he'll be angry. He'd protested in return. He'll come after me and be angry. He'll try to hurt you.

But we won't let him. They promised. He can't hurt us. There are too many of us. Think about it.

The offer had been tempting and had been made at the end of the school year, right before summer. He thought about it, then realized that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. So he agreed and off he went.

They smiled, and laughed, patted him on the back, and welcomed him with open arms. And he'd smiled. But he'd been afraid that _he _would come and ruin his fun, silly yami. But he didn't come. And Ryou was glad.

He went to arcades that summer and learned to play, his skills at video games becoming more honed. And he could give even Anzu a run for her money at the Dance Dance Revolution by the end. They'd been amazed.

Why didn't we free you sooner? They'd exclaim, and apologize again, although they never looked at him when they said that.

It's all right. He'd say and smile. Bakura still hadn't made contact with his light by the end of the summer and Ryou was finally happy. He could play monster world with his friends without worrying whether or not one of the figurines were his friends.

He loved his new life.

He was good at video games.

He was good at dancing.

He loved to read.

He loved Monster World.

He loved that he could go out whenever he wanted and _he _wouldn't be waiting for him.

He loved that he didn't have the weight of the Ring around his neck.

He adored that he no longer had a voice in his head.

He was truly happy.

And school started again.

Three months had gone by and no word from Bakura. Ryou couldn't have been happier. He went to school, got good grades and praises from the teacher. He was still bad at PE but the new coach was nice and gave him some slack.

And then it came. He noticed his new friends draw away from him. They would find excuses to be somewhere else. They would disappear for hours and when he called, they'd be gone. And he began to reminisce.

IT began like an itch. It nagged at him, refused to let him go. But he ignored it for a little while and it was easy. But the itch grew, and he began to long to scratch it. But he knew he couldn't. Because if he did, then he'd have to go back, for however briefly.

He longed to tell the others, but they were always busy. SO he began to tell himself,

There's no reason to fret. He'd left nothing behind. He'd lost nothing. He didn't need a dark to feel whole. He could remain pure for eternity.

_No you didn't. No you can't. You lost everything._ Said the little voice in his head.

And then he began to feel depressed. What's wrong? They'd ask, and he wouldn't answer, but they never cared enough to ask just one more time. Just once more and he would've told.

His skin began to go ashy, his eyes dull. People noticed, but didn't ask. And he began to lose sleep.

It's not because of _him._ He told himself firmly. _He_ could live on his own perfectly well.

_Can you? _Asked the little voice.

Ryou couldn't answer.

It was Christmas Evening and there was a huge party at Seto's mansion, much to said…rich person's dismay. Ryou laughed softly along with the rest of them, drank to their health's and so on and so forth. But it kept nagging, even more now. He knew he couldn't ignore it any longer.

He walked outside for a breather, then found himself walking towards the gates. Absently, he decided he was tired and was going to get some sleep. But where he went wasn't bed. He realized too late. He was now standing in front of his house. He shivered slightly when he remembered that he wasn't dressed all too warm. He'd forgotten his jacket at the mansion. He'd get it later. While he was thinking, his feet took him up the steps to the porch.

No. He couldn't go in there. He turned to go back down, but his feet wouldn't listen. Oh well. He gave up rather mildly. This would be his chance. He'd cut his ties with his past, then return home to the light he craved so much. At least, that's what he told himself. Rummaging through his pocket, he realized quite amusedly that he still carried his keys around out of habit. Cautiously, he unlocked the door, then pulled the metal stick out. He stared at the doorknob for a little bit before reaching towards the knob with trembling figures. He opened the door with bated breath, and walked in, expecting …

Anything but this. The house was dark, all the curtains drawn. But he could dimly see. It was quiet in the house as well, and it was extremely…neat. In fact, it looked like he still lived here. There wasn't any dust and nothing was out of place. HE walked further in. Everything was the same.

There wasn't any blood splattered on the walls, it was still perfectly white from what he could see. The couches were in perfect order, not stabbed, or ribbed, not even faded. The windows were crystal clear when he moved the clean curtains and un-dented. He looked at the coffee table. Still in one piece. It was odd.

He moved into the kitchen. No dead bodies, no blood boiling in the pots. Instead, it gleamed when he turned on the light, just like it had used to, his pride and joy. He opened the cabinets and found the correct dishes in the correct place. The supplies were well stocked and when he opened the fridge, it was as if nothing had changed. Everything was fresh, but it was just the way he'd left it.

He moved upstairs and checked his shrine to his mother. Untouched. He walked into the bathrooms. Perfectly fine. He dared to check Bakura's room. Oddly clean. In fact, it was even cleaner than it used to be. Finally, he opened the door to his room. And there he was.

Bakura sat on Ryou's bed absently, holding something. The rest of the room had been cleaned up since he'd left. His posters were still there, and so were his models. Bakura looked up at him with garnet eyes. They struck Ryou and he struggled not to move away. He was clean, but Bakura'd changed. His cheekbones were more prominent, his face was drawn and gaunt, his skin drained of color. His hair was more dormant now, still wilder than his, but gentler than before.

"Ryou." No question was in his voice, just a fact that he was in the same room as he. "I was hoping that you'd drop by ." He sounded oddly sober. For the past four years, when Bakura heard that this was a time for 'family', he'd ranted about his lack of family, ranted about how it was that damn Pharaoh's fault, then got himself drunk every year. But apparently not this year. It was hard to tell though. Bakura could seem sober even when he was drunk as hell.

"And why's that?" Bakura smiled slightly and stood up before walking towards his doppelganger lazily, with the air of a graceful snake.

"To give you this." Ryou flinched and was about to reel back when he realized that Bakura was holding something out. An odd emotion flickered in the older one's eyes as the younger accepted it.

"Th-thank you?" Bakura only nodded at the stammered thanks.

"Open it." Ryou was surprised. Bakura never gave presents. He hadn't thought Bakura even knew that it was a tradition to give presents. Apparently, he did.

It was crudely wrapped, but Bakura had given it, so he might as well. He unwrapped it as carefully as he could. A bolt of scarlet cloth fell out. Surprised, he managed to catch it. He unfolded it as it became a crimson robe.

"I thought you'd like it. It would fit you in an odd way." Bakura explained in a low voice. Ryou nodded and stared at it. "You put it on." Bakura stood up and helped Ryou into it, smiling slightly. Ryou nodded his thanks, then looked at himself in the mirror. And then it hit him as Bakura sat down again.

"Bakura…this is your," Bakura nodded.

"My thieving robe. Yes." Ryou's eyes grew wide.

"I can't accept this."

"You will. It's a gift."

"And since when have you given gifts?"

"Since this Christmas. Now, isn't it time for you to leave this all behind?" Bakura asked, looking away. He turned away from his light. And then he knew. Ryou knew. Ryou knew he couldn't leave. Why he'd felt that way.

Bakura stiffened for a moment as he felt slender arms wrap around him. "Bakura…" Ryou whispered. He knew. He'd been meant to be a light to the darkness. To brighten, and bring joy to the shadows. Not to be outshone by the sun, not to be dimmed by the stars. "I'm sorry."

"I know." And that's all that needed to be said.

End.

Merry Christmas and please review!


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